


Three Sides Of The Pyramid

by Val_Creative



Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [2]
Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood and Violence, Established Relationship, F/M, Gore, Goretober, Human Furniture, Kidnapping, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Married Couple, Married Sex, Poisoning, Romance, Seizures, Sexual Content, Vomiting, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Evelyn O'Connell must choose who lives and who dies.
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell
Series: Kinktober/Whumptober/Goretober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949473
Comments: 11
Kudos: 19
Collections: Kinktober 2020, Whumptober 2020





	Three Sides Of The Pyramid

**Author's Note:**

> I used to be OBSESSED with these movies as a kid. I still am. 👉👈 Please enjoy. Any comments/thoughts are deeply appreciated!

*

Home has always been Evy's loved ones. Jonathan made it difficult to place where her heart set foot.

She lost her parents. She lost Jonathan to drinking and thieving and gambling for a time. 

She's nearly lost her _life_ on multiple occasions. 

But that is the past. 

Evy hums softly, running her fingertips over damasked fabric of a long, peacock-blue chaise.

It is nice to return to London, wandering the O'Connell estate and marveling over shelves upon shelves of antiques. She never tires of mentally cataloguing each one. Old-fashioned books written in Hebrew and Mandarin and Arabic. Khopesh swords from Cairo. Ancient gilded spears and daggers. Ceremonial death masks painted in Isma'ilia. A necklace discovered in a Qina bazaar rumored to be owned by Hatshepsut. Amenhotep I's bones. Curios from the marketplaces dotting along Suhaj and Asyut.

Evy lifts a thumb to her mouth, nibbling on her nail and grinning. Rick _insisted_ on nothing with a curse. He made her promise.

(Her silly, suspicious Yank of a husband.)

She walks on, grimacing and rubbing her bare arms folded against herself. It's far too chilly. Evy peers out heavenward, fiddling with a window and shutting a lock. Alex must have been playing earlier, she supposes. Opening all of the grand, French-quarter windows.

Jonathan prattled on about getting some fresh air, volunteering to drive her son to a late-night exhibit. 

They'll be gone for another hour or so. 

Evy yelled at Rick upstairs, and him yelling at her for over-exaggerating, while a sullen Alex headed out the door. They rarely do have a go. It's _nonsense_. She doesn't understand why Rick insists on canceling their trip to Mansoura.

The hem to Evy's black, silken gown kisses the polished wood-flooring.

"Should we retire for the evening, Rick?" Evy murmurs, snatching up one of her journals resting on her newest table.

Rick grunts noncommittally when she drapes herself into a cherry oak armchair, propping up her feet. He's starkers. Completely and utterly _starkers_ in front of her with his round, sun-golden arse on display. Rick's back muscles flex, taking her weight as Evy's ankles cross. He's posed so beautifully for her. Arched up and taut. His naked skin glints with a coating of perspiration.

"I'm good here," Rick answers offhandedly. His voice deepens the way Evy likes it—when he crowds her against a bookstack, adoring her, holding her tight, whispering vulgar notions until Evy's pulse flutters—when Rick speaks her name like prayer—

Evy clears her throat, flipping a journal-page and pretending to be disinterested. Her cheeks burn.

"You know I'm only doing this so you'll stop being mad at me…"

The _cheek_.

She glances to a pleasantly smirking Rick. "Yes, well," Evy says haughtily, closing her journal one-handed. "I am not finished yet, Mister O'Connell." Despite the flatness in her expression, Rick only belly-laughs. He's thrilled by Evy's show of authority.

_ (So is Evy…) _

The attention firms Rick's cock. Twitching him. 

Evy watches greedily as his moistened tip reddens. She lowers her feet from Rick's back. 

"You should have turned me the other way, huh?" Rick says, tilting up an eyebrow at his wife breaking character to giggle. He shifts himself, facing another direction where his long, lovely prick sways into the air. "Might be a nice cushy seat."

Evy makes a thoughtful noise behind her lips, scooting in. 

Her hand rakes up over Rick's stomach, to his ribs and pectorals, where Evy's fingers span. They nestle into dark curlicues of hair, petting. 

"Awfully tempting," she mumbles.

Rick's mouth softens. "Awfully."

It's the tiniest moment of understanding before—suddenly, Rick drops onto the floor in horror, his eyes widening—

_ "Ev—" _

She senses a rush of air behind her. Evy lurches up, half-twisting on the armchair to know who Rick is gawking at, and it's gone. It's all gone. A white-hot explosion of pain replaces all of Evy's senses. Darkness swallows her whole.

*

Crimson. It's _crimson_ all around her.

Evy blinks, trying to focus.

_ "No…" _

Men wearing sword-belts and holding pistols block Evy in the foyer. Their robes a bright, recognizable crimson. "Good evening, Mrs. O'Connell," their leader drawls. A new successor to Baltus Hafez's cult for Imhotep. "Forgive us for intruding."

She must have gone unconscious. Long enough for them to drag her to her knees.

Rick—Evy's mind races— _Rick_ , her husband, her love and her light, _isn't here with her_ ——

One of their swords pin to her throat when an outraged Evy lurches. The leader snaps his fingers. They drag in a man with a black bag over his head. "Ardeth?" Evy mumbles in shock as they reveal him. His dark curls tumble to his face. "What is this—?"

Ardeth tilts his head respectfully to her, panting open-mouthed. He's bleeding from his shoulder.

(She knows Ardeth never comes to them unless there's great danger.)

"It seems we are trapped."

They bring in a second man covered in a black bag. He thrashes weakly, his arms roped behind him. Imhotep's cultists fling him next to a wincing Ardeth bowed over his knees. The man rolls on his side, grumbling out as they un-bag him.

"… Evy?"

"Jonathan!" Evy yells out. Relief and terror grapples inside her. "Oh, Jonathan! Where's Alex!?"

"Good lad… I told him to run." Delight glints in Jonathan's eyes. "He did, Evy. He did."

Evy sags away from the blade to her neck.

"Oh thank god," she whispers. Tears shine on Evy's cheeks. Her head rings. To her best guess, Evy has a concussion and a tender and darkening bruise on her left temple. Pain concentrates there. She remembers vaguely being _struck_.

The leader steeples his fingers, pacing behind Ardeth and a groaning Jonathan inching himself onto his knees.

"He will be found soon enough. And then, we will deliver your son's head to you."

Evy bares her teeth maliciously.

"You will _NOT_ —"

They bring in a third man. 

He's naked. 

He's hauled to the empty space beside Ardeth who tenses, remaining limp as the black bag rips off his head. 

A sob escapes Evy's lips. "Rick—" she pleads, trying to crawl to him. He's been beaten. "Rick, _aah!—Ah_!" Evy yelps, feeling a man's hand roughly dig into her long, brown hair and pulling her backwards. Evy's legs kick out.

Rick's blue eyes sharpen with hatred.

"Get off her," he whispers. His own blood glares across Rick's nose. Like a dark stripe.

"You have a decision to make, Mrs. O'Connell."

Evy stares wrathfully at the leader. "And what exactly is that?" she asks. "You invaded my home… you frightened my child and kidnapped my friend… you harmed my brother… you _dared_ to harm the man I love and you think I will allow this?"

"Choose one."

A breathless. scoffing laugh. "Do you expect me to pick who dies?" Evy says.

"No, my dear. They all are already dead."

Simultaneously, all three men vomit. Jonathan brings up yellowish liquid-chunks, shuddering and convulsing on the foyer's rug. Ardeth's pupils dilate. Rash appears on his tattooed cheeks. He starts foaming at the mouth, unable to speak. Black bile erupts and gushes from Rick's sore-infected lips. Evy watches in mounting distress as fluid-red slowly seeps out of Rick's nostrils.

They've been poisoned by an Egyptian asp. Somehow. It is a far more concentrated form of neurotoxin and cytotoxins running through human veins. Destroying the nerves. Cells and muscle tissue. Evy has never seen it behave so quickly and violently.

"We want you to pick who _lives_."

More than anything, Evy wants this to be a dream. A bad dream.

"I'll die first," she murmurs.

The leader's sneer begins to fade.

"You do not understand. That is not what we are asking."

_"I do not care,_ " Evy declares in Masri, tearing her eyes from Rick to glower. _"I have given you my answer."_

Several of the red-robed cultists grumble in the same Egyptian dialect, nodding to her and motioning frantically. The leader whirls around, shouting at them to be silent. In the midst of this, Evy notices Alex crouching hidden on the balcony-level. He has a diamond in his slingshot's pouch, positioning and yanking it back. She grins fiercely, switching to British English.

"I'm afraid you are about to be very sorry, gentlemen."

Alex squints an eye through the rosewood balusters, aiming. He hits one of the cultist's skulls. 

They holler. 

Evy uses the opportunity to knock the man behind her, throwing off his balance and crashing him down. 

She rolls, snatching up his khopesh.  Evy high-kicks a cultist rushing her. 

They slam into a wall-panel.

Another two of the men get sliced, their intestines dangling out. She moves on instinct, dodging and slicing her path. One of the cultists fires a pistol. Evy raises the khopesh-blade to her face, stopping the iron bullet and denting her steel. She gapes.

The cultist drops his pistol in amazement, running off. Evy heaves the khopesh into his spine, murdering them.

What remains of Imhotep's cult disappears into their motor-vehicle outside. 

The leader bellows, landing on hands and feet after getting whacked in the eye with Alex's slingshot. 

Evy's white diamond-earring oozes with their blood.

"Good evening," Evy murmurs this like a farewell, jabbing the leader with another khopesh-blade lying on the rug and pulling it out.

"Cripes!" Alex shouts, marching down the staircase gleefully.

He opens his mouth, only to be interrupted by wet, helpless noises from Jonathan.

"Alex, go get my medical kit! From the downstairs closet!" Evy tells him, kneeling down to Ardeth and holding his forehead comfortingly. "Hurry!" She hears Alex take off, monitoring them one-by-one. Feverishly and dangerously high temperatures.

As soon as Evy has it, she hunts in the rubbish for a clear vial with a small, scribbled vial.

"This will do it."

Evy pulls out a glass pipette, sloshing it into the vial's contents and letting it drip. She pinches each of their jaws open with a hand, leaving a single drop on their paling, engorged tongues. Evy's fingers stroke over Rick's unshaven jaw.

Alex frowns.

"Mum?"

"Everything will be alright, Alex."

Within minutes, everyone's color improves. The anti-toxins kinking in. Jonathan wakes, confused, no longer seizing up. Ardeth sucks in air, leaning back and wiping off his face. Rick's bloodshot eyes narrow in amusement.

"You… still mad at me…?"

Evy tuts in disapproval. "Shut it," she orders, kissing his brow and holding him.

This is home.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2020 prompt(s): **Human furniture**  
>  Whumptober 2020 prompt(s): **"Pick who dies", Kidnapping**  
>  Goretober 2020 prompt(s): **Poisoning**


End file.
